


Legend

by HysteriaLevi



Category: Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: Batjokes, M/M, cobblebats - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-07-08 10:08:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15928232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HysteriaLevi/pseuds/HysteriaLevi
Summary: TAKES PLACE DURING SEASON 2, EPISODE 5, VIGILANTE ROUTEWith Batman's protection, John Doe continues to raise hell throughout the city and evade justice, forcing the Agency to turn to their last resort: a man by the name of Oswald Cobblepot...whose only task is to kill Bruce Wayne.





	1. A New Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> WELL, it’s been quite some time since I last wrote about Cobblebats (or a sane Bruce), but we’re finally back and I’m super excited to get started. Thank you so much for the support you gave me during Lotus; I really appreciate you guys staying around for all these stories, and I hope you’ll enjoy this one as much. Stay awesome.

From Oswald’s POV

21 YEARS AGO

COBBLEPOT PARK

The tall boy threw his fist across my face, landing a heavy blow on the bone as pain throbbed throughout my entire cheek. Regardless of how hard I tried to defend myself, or how hard I fought back, my opponent always seemed to be two steps ahead of me...and it was humiliating.

I instantly tumbled to the soaked ground due to the impact, causing the other kids around us to laugh as he taunted me with a sneer.

“What’s the matter, Cobblepot?” Joseph asked. “Can’t go crying to your mom now that she’s in Arkham? I’m not surprised, to be honest. Everyone knows your family’s full of fuckin’ lunatics,” he threw another punch at me, grinning deviously. “Looks like the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

I would’ve been lying if I said Joseph didn’t just strike a nerve, but I knew that was his intention. I knew that was what he wanted.

Joseph was always targeting me -- whether it was at school, at the park, or even on my own goddamned doorstep -- and he used me as a way to make himself feel better. It was straight up torture to put up with him.

But no matter what, I had to remember what Bruce told me. I couldn’t let it get to me. I couldn’t allow him to keep hurting me. I had to stand up to him.

Spitting blood onto the mud below, I slowly pushed myself up, my limbs quivering with strain as I tried to rise to my feet.

“Oh no, no...” Joseph said in a condescending manner. “I don’t think so.”

With a simple, strong kick, he aggressively jabbed the tip of his shoe into my stomach and sent me staggering into the dirt once again as I coughed heavily, struggling to catch my breath.

“Well, go on, then,” he teased as he watched me roll around. “Get up, Oz. If you’re so damn tough.”

Another kick. To ensure I’d stay down. I felt like I was going to be sick now. 

“Look at you!” The bully jeered obnoxiously. “You’re so weak it’s embarrassing. Nothing but a little bitch with a boozed-up dad. Isn’t that right, Oz?” 

He crouched down to my level and leaned in, smirking arrogantly as he gripped the back of my collar.

“You’re a bitch,” he growled. “You hear that? My bitch. And if you ever try to forget it, I’ll come back and remind you. Maybe I’ll bring some friends along, too. Depends on how you behave. So stay in your place, and be a good boy. All right?”

I glared at the bully, staring him straight in the eye with a glower as I wiped the blood from my mouth.

“...Fuck you, Joseph.”

He chuckled, clearly annoyed by my response. “Oh, yeah?”

Joseph flipped me over and took a handful of my shirt, pinning me down as he slammed his fist directly into my nose with a sickening crack.

I let out an agonized shout and fell limp on the ground, completely drained of all energy as hot blood streamed down my face.

“How’s that?” He goaded. “Teach you to be a smartass.”

Turning to his friends, Joseph gestured them to leave and began to saunter away from the scene, glancing back at me with a snicker.

“C’mon,” he beckoned. “Let’s get outta here. I think this shithead’s learned his lesson for now. But we’ll be back.”

Leaving me alone in the ruffled, flattened grass, Joseph casually strolled off as if nothing happened while I clutched my wounded nose, writhing in the mud out of discomfort.

Why was it always me? I thought to myself. Why couldn’t I just be left alone?

My entire family was falling apart as if we had suddenly been forgotten, and these days, the name “Cobblepot” was nothing but a joke in Gotham. No one took our family as seriously as they used to, and even less wanted to be associated with us. Instead, everyone in my school just acted like my we didn’t even exist anymore. 

Everyone...except for Bruce. He was the only one I could count on.

Bruce would protect me from Joseph and any other bullies, keep me company when my parents were absent, and stay in touch even though the rest of the school ridiculed me. He didn’t care what other people thought about our friendship, or about the rumors circling around. 

We had a close bond between us, and that was all that mattered to him. Bruce refused to let my dad’s reputation alone destroy everything we had.

...And that was why I loved him.

Maybe not in the same way most people used that word, but there was definitely a deeper connection holding us together than just a mere “friendship.”

We were family. And I hoped we would stay that way forever.

Interrupting my thoughts, a boy suddenly called out to me from a distance -- as if on queue -- and made me forget all my troubles for a moment as I turned to see who it was.

“...Oz?” He asked. “Is that you?”

Not too far away from my location, I saw none other than Bruce himself entering the park as he greeted me from the other side of the gate, softly tapping his umbrella on the metal to get my attention.

“Bruce!” I exclaimed out of relief, my voice slightly trembling. “There you are. I...I’m glad you’re here.”

My friend took a closer look at me, clearly shocked by the fresh wounds on my face.

“Jesus -- what on Earth happened to you, Oz?” He leaned in, taking on a more serious tone. “...Did Joseph come after you again?”

I nodded silently, trying to pretend as if it didn’t bother me that much.

Bruce let out a sympathetic sigh, lightly gripping onto one of the gate’s bars.

“I’m sorry, Oz. I wish I could’ve gotten here sooner. You don’t deserve to be treated this way, and I don’t know what else I can do to help. There’s only so much that’ll keep Joseph away.”

“It’s all right...” I reassured quietly, “the fact that you’re here is enough. And besides, this is my fight to finish. Not yours. I swear, Bruce, I’m gonna smash Joseph’s damn face in someday. And then he’ll regret everything he’s done to me.”

Bruce seemed slightly alarmed by that. 

“The worst thing you can do is become him, Oz,” he reminded. “Joseph goes around and preys on anyone who’s smaller than him. He drags them down to his level. You’re better than that. Never forget it...okay?” 

“...Okay, okay.” I reluctantly agreed, waving a dismissive hand. “You’re right.”

“’Course I am,” Bruce joked, changing the subject. “Anyway, you need to get up now.”

I quirked a brow. “What d’you mean?”

He tapped his umbrella on the gate again.

“You need to get up.” He said a second time, without explanation.

~~~~~~~~~~

BLACKGATE PRISON

MODERN DAY, NIGHTTIME

“...Get up, Cobblepot!”

A loud, metallic cling echoed throughout the cell, causing me to jolt awake. I lay still for a moment, confused at what was going on.

“C’mon, prisoner!” The guard repeated, his voice growing increasingly agitated as he banged his baton against the bars. “I won’t say it again.”

I sluggishly rose from the bed and stretched my arms, rubbing my eyes as a fatigued yawn escaped me. 

I glared at the guard with a squinted gaze, blinded by their flashlight. 

“Fuck’s sake...” I mumbled out, “...what is it? The sun ain’t even up yet. ...Or were you just gettin’ lonely?”

The guard scoffed at that and roughly slid the door open, beckoning me. 

“And the other guards said you were charming.”

Tearing myself away from the comfort of the bed, I sauntered over to him with a loose posture as I gave him a lazy frown.

“I’m much more of a gentleman when it’s not four in the morning. What's goin’ on?”

Shoving me forward, the guard began to explain things along the way as other prisoners eyeballed us from their own cells, curious about what we were doing. Despite it being the middle of the night, not many of the inmates actually appeared to be asleep.

“You’ve got a visitor.” He said plainly.

“A visitor?” I questioned, surprised by the answer. “At this time? What do they want?”

The guard pushed me around a corner.

“You can ask them yourself when we get there. Now be quiet.”

“All right, all right...” I chuckled. “I’m just curious, is all. Not really many folks in Gotham who’d like to pay me a visit.”

The guard’s brow furrowed. “I’m starting to see why.”

“Cranky, aren’t we?” I remarked. “You sure another guard didn’t lose their baton up your arse?”

“I mean it, prisoner,” he warned. “Be quiet.”

I sighed out of annoyance. “Fine...have it your way. Just tryin’ to make conversation.”

The guard led me down a spiral staircase, taking me to the first floor as we headed for the visiting room.

“Oh, trust me,” he replied, “there’ll be plenty of time for that later.”

~~~~~~~~~~

VISITING ROOM

Wandering into the empty space, the guard stayed behind as I approached my guest who was sitting alone at one of the tables with nothing but a pair of files in front of them. They looked like a relatively young man -- probably around the same age as me -- and wore a neat suit along with a device in their ear. 

I didn’t recognize his face, and I certainly hadn’t been expecting anyone, but clearly, this man wasn’t just some random nobody. The prison guards would’ve never let him in during this hour, otherwise. So who was he?

As curious as I was to see what this stranger wanted however, the secrecy of this arrangement also had me on high-alert. I had to be careful.

“Erm...” I cleared my throat, “...hello?”

The man turned to look at me. “Ah, there you are,” he casually gestured at the chair across from him. “Please, have a seat. There’s much we need to discuss.”

Despite my hesitance, I complied nonetheless and decided to play along with the man for now, admittedly hooked with interest.

“Mind tellin’ me your name, first?” I asked. 

The man refused. 

“Who I am is of no importance. All you need to know...is who I represent.”

“And that would be...?”

He rested his elbows on the table, looking me straight in the eye. “The Agency. Or, more specifically, the director of the Agency. Amanda Waller.”

I furrowed my brows. “The Agency? What do they want with me?”

The man slid one of the files in my direction, urging me to open it.

“A profile of Bruce Wayne,” he explained as I flipped through it. “I understand you know him well.”

“...Yeah,” I confirmed in a somewhat regretful tone. “We was close as kids. Inseparable. Thought we’d stay that way, too.”

“And now?”

I shut the file closed, not wanting to look at Bruce anymore. He and I already had enough bad memories together. I didn’t need to think about them any further.

“Now...” I continued, “we’re like strangers. Everything I thought I knew about Wayne turned out to be a lie. In the end, he was just as bad as his father.”

The man seemed unconvinced. “Oh, I’m sure you know him better than you think.”

Switching out the files, he gestured for me to read through the second one as he observed my every move, obviously scheming something that he had yet to expose.

“It’s Batman.” I said, scanning over the first page.

“You’re familiar with him, too, aren’t you?”

I laughed at the understatement. “Familiar? I almost killed the bastard. Almost. Other than that, there ain’t much to say about the vigilante. He’s not exactly an open book. ...Why? What does Waller want with these people?”

Retrieving the file, the agent stacked them together in a neat pile and put them aside for the moment, getting right to the point. There was a certain look in his eyes that unsettled me. A look that said he knew something I didn’t. Half of me wanted to hear what it was, but the other half dreaded the forbidden information. After all, there was a reason people had secrets.

“Tonight,” he began, “I’ve presented you with the profiles of two very prominent citizens in Gotham. However...we have only discussed one person.”

I sat there in silence, trying to process what the agent just told me. 

“...Wait, what are you...” 

He appeared amused by my shock. 

“I understand it’s hard to comprehend. It wasn’t too long ago that I was in the same position as you.”

I combed a hand through my hair and shook my head, still in disbelief.

“No, no, no. That can’t be right. They’re nothing alike! Bruce Wayne is just some playboy billionaire who got rich off his father’s crimes, and Batman is...well, Batman. He fights criminals, fights for ‘justice.’ Something Wayne knows nothing about. And you’re tellin’ me...they’re the same person?”

He nodded firmly. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

I let out an overwhelmed sigh, suddenly feeling the need to go back to sleep.

“...And why tell me all this? Why give me this kind of info? This isn’t something you’d just reveal to anyone -- if what you’re sayin’ is true.”

The agent pushed the files towards me. “Because Director Waller has a job for you. See, the Agency has been watching your moves for quite some time now, Oswald. We know about everything you’ve done -- from your blackmailing Hamilton Hill...to the disfiguring of Harvey Dent. There’s not a thing on your record we aren’t aware of. Though, Waller believes we can add to that list.”

I decided to hear him out. “Oh yeah? How so?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard of John Doe by now. Or ‘the Joker,’ if you prefer. He’s proven to be a menace these past few weeks, and the Agency is doing everything they can to detain him. Unfortunately, there’s just one problem.”

“Let me guess,” I said sarcastically, “it's Wayne?”

“Yes,” the agent replied, “but not in the way you’re thinking. Wayne is protecting John Doe. Hiding him. For whatever reason, he absolutely refuses to hand the man over to us...and you know how hard Batman fights. He’s caused more than a handful of troubles for Waller. Not to mention Gotham.”

“And how do I fit in all this?”

The man lowered his voice slightly, giving me an emotionless expression.

“You...are going to kill Bruce Wayne.”

I blinked a few times, bewildered by the response.

“...I’m sorry, you want me to assassinate Batman?”

The agent chuckled. “Don’t sound so modest. Waller thinks you’re capable, and she’s not easily impressed. Besides, you said it yourself. You almost killed him once before. Our organization sees you as our last chance of getting Batman out of the way, and locking John Doe up for good. We need your help.”

I rubbed my chin out of thought. “I see. And what if I say no?”

He persisted. “You don’t have a choice.”

I shrugged. “Pfft, guess I should’ve seen that coming. ...All right. I’ll do it. Ain’t like I’ve got other things to fill up my schedule. Very well. Where d’you want me to start?”

“Try distracting Batman,” he recommended. “If you can get his attention away from Doe for long enough, it’ll give us a window to act. But you have to be discreet. Understand? We don’t want Batman to know we’ve sent an assassin after him just yet.”

I nodded. “Leave it to me.”

The agent rose from his chair and straightened his suit, preparing to leave as dawn crept over the horizon.

“Very good,” he said, sounding pleased for the first time. “The Agency looks forward to working with you, Oswald. Don’t disappoint us...but I’m sure a man of your talents doesn’t need to worry about that. I’ll see you again soon.”

Just before he left, the agent looked back at me to say one last thing.

“Oh, and I’d pack your things if I were you. This is the final night you’ll be spending in Blackgate, after all. So, savor the moment. While you still can.”

I laughed. “On the contrary, I’ve been wanting to leave ever since the day I arrived. The Agency can’t get me out of here fast enough.”

The man smiled subtly, disappearing into the night’s darkness as he waved a short goodbye.

“We already have.”


	2. On The Hunt

From Bruce’s POV

WAYNE MANOR

THE NEXT MORNING

John let out an astonished gasp upon entering the manor, his jaw dropping open as he viewed the inside with an amazed expression.

“Wow, Bruce!” He exclaimed as he observed the chandeliers hanging above, craning his neck backwards. “I knew you were rich, but...but this...!”

John spread his arms out and twirled around like a top, laughing vigorously to himself.

“This is...INCREDIBLE! Hehehe!”

I smiled gently at the man, adoring his eccentric display of joy from a distance while he explored his new home. 

With the Agency and police constantly trying to arrest John, I agreed to let the man live with me for a while in hopes of protecting him. It was too risky to leave him alone during these times, and the last thing I wanted was for someone to catch him while I wasn’t looking. 

Aside from Alfred, John was all I had left. He was my closest friend, my partner in fighting crime, and one of the few people I knew I could trust for sure. He had been with me through thick and thin, and always had my back no matter what. I needed him by my side.

If Waller or anyone else wanted to take him away from me, they were going to have to put up a fight. And a damned good one.

“I’m glad you like the house, John,” I said, strolling up to him. “As much as I appreciate the solitude, I have to admit it does get lonely here sometimes. It’ll be nice having you around.”

John put a dramatic hand over his heart and wiped away a fake tear, tilting his head at me in a touched manner.

“You are truly the kindest man I’ve ever met, Brucie. I might just shed a tear.”

I grinned at that, slipping my hands into my pockets. “You’d be the first to say that in a while. I’ve almost forgotten the days when Gotham didn’t hate the Waynes. So, any idea where you want to sleep?”

The clown shrugged, slightly confused. “Um...in the bedroom...?”

A chuckle escaped me. “Well, yes, but which one? There are seven of them.”

John’s eyes popped open. “You have seven bedrooms?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed, “along with two kitchens, a library, a gymnasium, a basketball court, and a movie theater. And there’s obviously also the Batcave.”

The other man clapped happily and rubbed his hands together out of excitement, unable to contain himself.

“This is unreal, Bruce. It’s like I’m in paradise. I went from living in an abandoned subway station...to the fanciest manor in Gotham! Ah, it’s so nice having all this...space! Not to mention that Bane and Harley aren’t here to argue about nonsense all day long. We have to arrange a move night sometime! Tell me, are you more of a beef jerky or corn bites guy?” John shrugged. “Ah heck, I’ll just bring both! Hehe!”

“Just be sure to keep a low profile,” I reminded him. “The Agency can’t know you’re here. Otherwise, they’ll tear the place apart brick-by-brick, and take you back to Arkham. Or worse -- slap a collar on you like the rest of the Pact. If you ever want to leave the house, there’s a another exit through the Batcave that will draw much less attention than the front door. And try not to go out by yourself, got it? I wanna make sure you’re safe.”

John nodded, giving me a thumbs-up. “Got it!”

“Great. Now, why don’t you go set up your room?”

He smirked at me, picking up his bags. “Oh, I’ve been so excited for this moment, Brucie! Decorating my own room in Wayne Manor,” John sighed in satisfaction. “This is a dream come true. You and I -- we are gonna have so...much...fun!”

Hurrying up the elegant staircase with his belongings, John practically glided to his room as Alfred passed him on the way down, giving the clown a subtle gesture of acknowledgement before making his way to me. 

Despite the smile on the butler’s face and his straightened posture, I could still tell something wasn’t quite right, and as soon as John’s echoing cackle disappeared down the corridor, the old man broke his charade, voicing his concerns.

“I mean no disrespect towards your friend, Bruce,” he said lowly, “but are you sure it’s a good idea to have him stay here?”

Alfred and I wandered over to a more secluded corner of the manor, hoping to keep out of earshot while I explained the situation to him.

“I can’t just let John roam around Gotham by himself, Al. He’s not exactly the type of person to lay low, and the Agency’s been keeping an extremely close eye on him lately. One wrong move, and he’ll be behind bars. I have to watch him.”

The butler didn’t appear convinced. 

“...Well, perhaps that’s not such a bad thing,” he argued. “I know you care for him, but in the end, John is a criminal. And he must be brought to justice. We can’t ignore that, Bruce. Batman can’t.”

I paused for a moment, unable to deny that Alfred had a point. 

Crossing my arms, I checked to make sure John was still out of sight. 

“Look, I know John’s made mistakes--”

“--He’s murdered people.” Alfred corrected.

“--But...” I continued, “I don’t think he’s beyond saving. Not yet, anyways. You said it yourself, Alfred. He’s my friend. I can’t just give up on him and toss him in jail. He’s...he’s all I have left. I mean, Tiffany’s with the Agency, Lucius is gone, and now Waller’s threatening to take John away, too. I have to at least try to help him.”

Realizing that there was no way he was going to sway my mind, Alfred let out a defeated sigh and dropped the subject, evidently anxious about what would come in the future.

“...Very well, sir. I trust your decision, but please...proceed with caution. Soon, the time will come when you must choose which is more important: your friendship with John, or your duty as Batman -- and I don’t want your judgement to be hindered.”

I gave him an assuring nod, heading upstairs to check on my friend. 

“Don’t worry, Alfred. As much as I care about John, I’m not blind. If I think he’s fallen beyond repair, Batman will be the first one to step in. But he’ll be brought to justice the right way. I won’t let Waller lay a finger on him, no matter what happens.”

~~~~~~~~~~

From Oswald’s POV

THE STACKED DECK

“The hunt for the Joker continues,” Jack Ryder reported, his voice barely audible over the rock music filling up the bar, “and the police are desperate to find any leads that could help them find the perpetrator. Fortunately for Gotham, the Joker seems to have gone underground recently and has even ‘vanished’ according to some. In the past few days, there have been no reports of any Joker-related crimes, and the green-haired clown hasn’t been spotted by anyone. Normally, a moment of peace such as this would be appreciated, but one can’t help wondering if the reason the Joker has disappeared...is he’s planning something bigger. But of course, we will keep all you viewers out there informed with any updates. I’m Jack Ryder, and you’re watching Gotham TV.”

I softly chuckled at the news and glanced downwards at my beer bottle, happily taking a sip as I watched the chaos unravel in Gotham’s news. At this point, I wasn’t even upset by all the mayhem slowly tearing down this city, and a part of me was even thrilled. 

I had learned enough about Gotham to know that its citizens were far from innocent, and the ones who were died ages ago. The only people who survived in this godforsaken place were men in suits, and those controlling them from the shadows. As far as I was concerned, Joker’s hell-raising rampage was nothing but some well-earned karma, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I only hoped that karma also hit Bruce Wayne.

I was still having difficulty imagining that billionaire pretty boy as Batman. Not only did the two of them act nothing alike, but they were also on complete opposite ends of the spectrum.

The Waynes hurt people; killed them, even. Anyone who was brave enough to oppose them got murdered or thrown in Arkham by Thomas...and yet, his son grew up to become a vigilante. Someone who fought against people like his father. Why?

Maybe this was Bruce’s way of making amends? Maybe he knew the truth about his dear, old dad all along, and wore the mask so he could do more good for the world without risking his reputation. Like he did when Joseph bullied me as a kid. 

Pft. I didn’t know whether to admire or condemn him. 

All I did know...was that I had to kill him. And quickly.

Ordering another drink, I suddenly sensed a presence walking up behind me as the bartender waltzed off, causing me to glance over my shoulder. 

Standing not too far away from me, there was a young woman dressed in a neat, grey blazer and high heels, and her brown hair had been tied into an elegant bun. She was equipped with an advanced pistol that hid just beneath her jacket, and in her hand, she held a clipboard. I guessed this woman must’ve been with the Agency. She had that...look.

“So you’re released from prison after an entire year on the inside,” she said, “...and this is the first place you visit? I...guess I see the appeal.”

I paid no mind to her comment.

“I was in Blackgate for quite a while, love. I’d say I deserve a drink.”

The woman stepped closer. “Just make sure you don’t overdo it. I need your senses to be alert.”

Putting the beer down for a moment, I gave her an irritated glare and casually stood up from my chair, approaching the agent.

“And just who the hell are you?” I questioned. “I’m working on assassinating Gotham’s favorite vigilante for you people, yet your lips remain tighter than the security at Blackgate. Can I get a code name, at the very least?”

Surprisingly, the woman reacted in a more-than-friendly manner and held out her hand, smiling warmly at me.

“Agent Iman Avesta,” she introduced. “You met my partner yesterday. Vernon Blake.” 

I didn’t return the handshake, and went back to my stool. 

“You can call me Oz,” I replied, “but I assume you know that already. The Agency seems to know a lot ‘bout me. So, what, you here to keep an eye on me?”

Avesta took a seat next to me. “Something like that. Waller just wants to make sure you don’t do anything too...rash. I’m sure you understand.”

I quirked a brow. “If she don’t trust me, then why’d she hire me to do the job?”

“Waller has absolute confidence in your skills,” the agent explained, “but that’s the extent of her trust. Not that I blame her. After all, you were associated with the Children of Arkham. It’d be foolish to let you act alone. It’s nothing personal, of course. The Director watches all her ‘allies’ very closely.”

I scoffed. “You mean like the Pact? I know they’re working for her.”

Avesta seemed impressed. “Well, well. Looks like we’re not the only ones who are good at learning secrets. Waller made a good choice, hiring you for the job. I look forward to accompanying you.”

Finishing my drink, I placed the empty bottle aside and turned to the agent.

“...And how exactly does Waller want me to approach this mission?” I asked. “Any rules I should know about? Any lines I can’t cross?”

Avesta shook her head. “Aside from deserting the mission itself, no. The Director has granted you full permission to do anything it takes to kill Batman. And she means anything.”

Slightly nodding in approval, I separated myself from the bar and prepared to leave, Avesta tagging along with me as we strolled outside.

“Well, all right then. If that’s the case, I think I know just what to do for our first step. But I’m gonna need your help finding someone.”

She appeared intrigued. “Oh, really? And who would that be?”

I smirked, eager to get down to business.

“...Ever heard of a man named Joseph Hunt?”


	3. A Second Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry these chapters haven’t been that frequent. Lately I’ve been running a bit low on motivation and I didn’t want to rush anything out, so that’s why these parts have been taking centuries to release lol. But I’m excited to get back to work, and I hope you all enjoy this fic. Thanks for being so patient and sticking with me through all these stories. Love you guys :)

From Bruce’s POV

THAT NIGHT

Rushing through Gotham’s streets in the Batmobile, John sat beside me and happily spoke to himself as we carried on with our nightly patrol, keeping an eye out for any criminals that could’ve been running amok. 

Even though the clown was technically supposed to be hiding from the Agency right now, that didn’t stop him from wanting to help me with my work as Batman. And considering the situation we were in, I wasn’t in much of a position to turn him down. 

Recently, the crime in Gotham had become relentless, and ironically, Waller’s presence didn’t do us any favors. If anything, the director and her agents just seemed like different types of criminals to me, and it was my job to get them out of the city. Fast.

I just hoped John would actually follow my code. I had no problem putting my trust in him, but he wasn’t exactly a man of restraint, and the last thing I needed was for someone to get killed tonight. Lord new this city had seen enough death.

“So, what’s the status, Bats?” John asked with an energized, toothy grin, breaking the silence. “See any baddies on the loose?”

I squinted slightly at the road ahead, gazing through the beams of my headlights.

“Nothing so far.” I replied. “Things have been pretty quiet tonight.”

“Why the nervous look?” He commented. “Isn’t that what we want? Or are you just getting bored? ‘Cause I certainly am. I wanna punch someone already! Hehe!”

“Well,” I said, hugging a corner, “I was expecting to see at least a robbery by now, but it’s been peaceful. A little too peaceful for my liking. It’s almost as if Gotham’s...waiting for something. Biding its time.”

John shrugged. “Sounding a bit paranoid there, buddy. But, hey. Who knows? Could be because of the Agency. I mean, heck -- if weirdos like me are hiding from them, I imagine common criminals would also want to keep out of their sights, too. Not to mention we are driving around in a giant murder machine. Not exactly subtle.”

“...That’s true, I guess.”

“Relax, Brucie,” he reassured with confidence, patting my shoulder. “I swear, you’re gonna have a full head of grey hair before the sun rises. You have a partner now, remember? This burden is no longer yours alone to bear. I promise, if I see anything out of the ordinary like that shattered window up there, you’ll be the first to know.”

A pang of realization hit me at that statement and I came to a sudden halt, causing John to lurch forward like a slingshot with a yelp.

“What?” I asked, taken by surprise. “Where?”

John regained his composure and peeled himself off the dash, pointing upwards at what appeared to be an apartment building. 

“There...” he said with a slight groan. “I bet someone used it to break in.”

I furrowed my brow at the scene and prepared my gear, slowly exiting the Batmobile.

“...Or out. Come on. Let’s go take a look.”

~~~~~~~~~~

THE APARTMENT

Grappling up to the broken window with my arm around John, the two of us landed on a simple balcony as we discreetly checked inside, making sure whoever caused this damage wasn’t still around.

“...See anything?” John whispered, peeking over the sill. 

“Looks clear,” I observed. “But the apartment’s a mess. There was definitely some sort of struggle here. Be on your guard.”

Activating my earpiece, I contacted Alfred as John quietly hopped inside ahead of me, navigating his way around the toppled furniture.

“Alfred,” I said lowly, “John and I have come across a peculiar scene in a nearby apartment. It looks like a fight took place here...and a rather violent one at that. I’ll send you the address, but don’t call the GCPD just yet. I want to inspect the area first.”

“Of course, sir. Keep me updated...and please, be careful.”

Returning to the situation at hand, I started examining the wrecked apartment and the clues scattered around me as John conducted his own investigation, both of us trying to formulate a cause for this mess.

Some of the furniture had been broken, numerous dents had been beaten into the walls, and a flickering lamp rested on the floor along with some shards of glass. How did the neighbors not hear any of this? Were they simply gone when it happened? ...Or did someone make sure their lips stayed shut? I had to find out.

“Batman!” John called, beckoning me to the kitchen. He was kneeling down by something, but the counters in front of me blocked my view. I hurried over.

“What is it?” I asked. “Did you find anything?”

Carefully treading through the ruined furniture, I stepped next to my partner and crouched beside him, only to come to an abrupt pause when I noticed there was a man lying against the stove with a gun in his grip.

Both his shirt and hands had been stained with blood -- most-likely his own, considering the wound on his abdomen -- and his face was riddled with severe contusions. Judging by their freshness, this man was attacked today.

“...What do we do?” John questioned. 

I reached for the man’s gun, checking the magazine. None of the ammunition had been depleted.

“He didn’t have a chance to fire,” I concluded. “The attacker must have taken him by surprise. Or at least been quick enough to bring him down before he could defend himself.”

John gazed at the disarray around us. “...Well, he certainly put up a good fight without the gun. Maybe he was trying to get to it?”

I nodded. “Possibly. Hang on a minute. I’m going to see if I can identify who this man is.”

I contacted Alfred again.

“Master Bruce,” he greeted, sounding relieved. “How goes the investigation?”

“There’s a body here,” I reported, “but I don’t recognize their face, and neither does John. I need you to search the database for any possible matches.”

“A body?” He repeated grimly. “Oh, dear. What do they look like?”

I scanned the victim. “Male. Caucasian. 185 centimeters. Short blond hair and a beard. Appears to be around his early thirties. Has a distinct series of tattoos on both arms and on the side of his neck. Scar just above the left brow bone.”

Alfred was quiet for a minute.

“...Find anything?” I checked.

The butler deemed successful.

“Sir, I’ve just looked up the address you sent me and cross-referenced that with any people who fit your description...and there’s only one match. His name was Joseph Hunt.”

I froze in shock, falling silent as I suddenly realized who this man was.

“Joseph Hunt?”

“That name mean something to you, Bruce?”

I examined the man, a series of memories rushing through my head as I observed his somewhat familiar features.

“I went to school with Joseph as a kid,” I concluded. “If I recall correctly, he was always quite the bully. Didn’t exactly have any friends. Clearly, not much has changed.”

“...Indeed,” Alfred confirmed in an uneasy tone, searching for more information about him. “According to the codex, Hunt had quite a troubled life. Despite going to the same school when you were children, it seems that the two of you took very different paths as adults.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Hunt lived a life of crime,” he explained. “It says here that he was involved in multiple robberies, drug deals, burglaries, and even an attempted murder. Of his own father, no less. He also worked with The Pact for a time. It...certainly raises the question of whether Hunt was the...true victim in this scenario.”

I caught on instantly. “You think someone killed him out of revenge?”

“It’s definitely a plausible explanation. You can’t commit that many felonies without making enemies, Bruce. Just look at Thomas. Behavior like that is always certain to be your undoing.”

I glanced at John for a moment who was still busy rummaging through the evidence around us, eagerly waiting for an update from me.

“True, but unfortunately that doesn’t really narrow it down,” I countered. “There were loads people working with The Pact, and who knows who he was mixed up with before then? I only know one of his victims personally, and they’re in prison right now. It had to be someone else.”

Alfred paused. “Wait, you know one of his victims?”

“Yeah,” I responded casually. “Oswald Cobblepot. He’s not a victim of Hunt’s crimes -- as far as I’m aware -- but he was one of the kids Joseph would bully back in school. And I’d always be the one to protect him...” my voice softened at the recollection, and I couldn’t deny that I felt a tad nostalgic thinking about my childhood. 

But I quickly snapped back to reality with a gentle cough, bringing my focus back to the crime scene. “Ahem. Like I said though, he’s in prison. So it couldn’t have been him.”

Alfred was unconvinced. “...The Batcomputer would disagree.”

My mind went into a state of alarm. “What are you talking about?”

“Official records would tell you that Cobblepot is still being held in Blackgate, when in reality, he was released just two days ago at the request of the Agency. For what reason however, I couldn’t tell you. Details are close to nonexistent.”

“Dammit,” I cursed. “Why would the Agency set someone like Oswald free? They know what he’s done -- what the Penguin’s done. Surely, they wouldn’t trust him...but then again, Waller does have a habit of using criminals in place of her own men. I mean, look at Harley and Selina. Hell, she even slapped a collar on Bane. I guess there’s really nothing stopping her from recruiting one extra pair of hands.”

Alfred agreed. “I’m afraid you could be correct, sir. Question is: why now? And why Oswald? Out of all people, what’s convinced Waller that she needs his help? Nothing good, that’s for sure.”

“We’ll figure that out later,” I said. “Right now, I need to deal with Joseph. We can’t just leave him here--”

“--The hell?!” A man’s voice interrupted. “Get away from me...!”

Whipping around at the sudden outburst, I let out a quiet gasp when I saw that -- contrary to what I was expecting -- Joseph was actually still alive, and attempting to swat John away with a very weak, bloodied arm. 

“Geez!” The clown exclaimed. “I was only trying to help!”

Joseph’s head whirled towards me, revealing a pair of fatigued, darkened eyes.

“...Batman?” He breathed out, recognizing my mask instantly. “When’d you get here...? What’s...what’s happening?”

I carefully approached the panicked man.

“It’s all right, Joseph,” I comforted in a low, but gentle tone. “You’re safe now. My partner and I just arrived a few minutes ago.”

That only seemed to confuse him more.

“You know who I am? How do you...ah, what the hell. I don’t even care anymore. What do you want from me? You here to arrest me?”

I knelt down next to him.

“Slow down, Joseph. We’ll get to that, but I need to ask you a few questions. First things first: do you remember what happened? Or when it happened? Do you know who the assailant was?”

Joseph appeared to relax slightly, and his shoulders slouched out of relief, but the rest of his temperament still felt incredibly restless.

“...I-It was...after I got home,” he recalled, his body limp with exhaustion. “Don’t know what the exact time was, but the sun was down already.”

“Where were you before that?” I asked. A faint look of shame spread across his face.

“The Stacked Deck. I go there quite a lot. Guess that’s why it was so easy for the attacker to figure out my schedule.”

I found that a bit strange. “Wait, you think they were studying you?”

Joseph shrugged. “It would make sense. I mean, when I opened the door, he was just...standing there. Right in the middle of my own, goddamn apartment. Like he was expecting me or something.”

“That does seem odd,” I agreed. “Any idea who he was?”

The shame in his expression grew even more prominent at that, and his head lowered out of guilt.

“I was gonna shoot him at first,” Joseph confessed, gesturing to his gun, “but when he told me who he was... When I finally saw his face... I just...couldn’t. A stupid fuckin’ move, I know, but I just didn’t have it in me.”

I urged him to go on. “Who was he? Do you have a name?”

His lifeless stare sharpened with concern, and his jaw tightened out of anxiety.

“...Oswald Cobblepot.”

Shit, I thought to myself. Alfred was right.

But...it still didn’t make any sense. Joseph wasn’t a saint, sure, but he never caused enough trouble for the Agency to notice him. At least, not while I was with them. 

So, why would they let Oswald go after him? What did Waller gain from killing some random criminal? Was Joseph really that much of a hindrance to them? I doubted it. This whole situation was a mystery...and I had the feeling Joseph knew more than he was letting on. But it was time I let the GCPD in. If the Penguin was back on the streets, they needed to be aware.

“I think I’ve heard enough,” I concluded, rising back to my feet. “John, keep an eye on him. I’m going to contact GCPD.”

“Wait!” He insisted. “...Do you really think handing him over to them is a good idea?”

I halted mid-action, my hand paused just beside my earpiece. 

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it,” John continued. “Waller has her boot on Gordon’s neck right now, and she’s certainly not interested in helping Batman at the moment. If we give Joseph to her, who knows what’ll happen? She could just finish the job behind closed doors, and then we’d never figure out the rest of the puzzle! Besides, this guy was with the Pact! And he clearly has history with that Cobblepot punk, too. He might know some things we don’t. Things that we can keep hidden from Waller...”

I mindlessly began to lower my hand.

“...That’s...actually a good point,” I admitted. “But what would you suggest we do with him instead, then? Like I said before, we can’t just leave him here.”

John scratched the back of his head in thought. “Why not bring him back to the cave?”

I stared at him in bewilderment. “You’d let him inside the heart of our operations?”

“You know me, Batsy,” the clown reminded, placing a palm over his chest. “I have a knack for reading people -- just like I read you back when we first met -- and something tells me we can trust him.”

I crossed my arms. “And if we can’t?”

John scoffed. “Pfft, you’re Batman, for Pete’s sake! What’s one common criminal to deal with if things go awry? We could handle him easily! Unless, of course, you’d rather risk Waller getting her hands on him...”

I sighed in defeat, glancing back at Joseph reluctantly.

“...I’ll consider accepting his help,” I announced, causing John to clap excitedly, “but we’re not taking him to the cave. Not for now. In the meantime, get him to the Batmobile. If we’re going to move him anywhere, we need to patch him up first.”

Pulling Joseph’s arm around his shoulder, John eagerly lugged our new “friend” to safety and gave me an approving thumbs-up, strolling away merrily. Meanwhile, the other man wearily stared at me in wonder -- almost as if he had been expecting a much worse outcome -- and simply allowed my partner to drag him off as he said a quick word.

“...Thank you, Batman.” Joseph croaked, his voice raspy and wounded. “A man like me doesn’t deserve your help, but you gave it anyway. I won’t...I won’t forget this.”

I nodded firmly at him. “You refrained from taking a life tonight, Joseph. I’m sure you’re a better man than you think.”

He brought his eyes to the floor in sorrow, a hint of regret coating his intense gaze.

“Yeah...I used to tell myself the same thing.”


End file.
